


Better Luck Next Time

by ScullyFemme



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Post-Episode: s07e06 The Goldberg Variation, first date fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyFemme/pseuds/ScullyFemme
Summary: After the events of The Goldberg Variation, Mulder's feeling lucky.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97
Collections: X-Files Fluff Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	Better Luck Next Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [specialagentpao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/specialagentpao/gifts).



> Prompt: A 'Goldberg Variation' post-ep. They seemed really flirty in that episode.
> 
> I love The Goldberg Variation and I can't believe I haven't done a fluffy post-ep for it before, so this was a lot of fun! I hope you like it!
> 
> This is set immediately after the episode, with the first scene being the last one of the ep where they're watching Weems set off the Rube Goldberg machine in the hospital (I always cry at how Scully smiles up at Mulder during this scene 😭)

She was smiling at him again. That rare Scully smile, the one that she wore less and less as their years together went on. But during the past few days, she’d been smiling again. Hell, even joking with him.

Maybe Weems’s luck wasn’t the only one changing.

He smiled back and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her down the hall to the elevator. They stood inside in companionable silence until Scully broke it.

“Want me to book the flight home?” She absentmindedly reached into her pocket for her phone despite the fact she had no intention of calling until they get back to the motel. “It’s still pretty early; we could probably find one today or tonight.”

“Home?” Mulder shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea: let’s go to Vegas. C’mon, Scully, I’m feelin’ lucky,” he said, shooting her a boyish grin and wiggling his shoulders.

She scoffed, but there was a slight upward quirk to her lips. “We’re not going to Vegas.”

The elevator dinged and they stepped out, weaving their way through the parking garage. “Alright. Atlantic City, then,” he said.

“I’m not going gambling with you, Mulder.”

“How about poker night with the Gunmen?”

“Frohike cheats.”

“Of course he cheats. He wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.”

She smiled. “I think I’ll pass.”

There it was again. That smile. For a moment, he got so wrapped up in it that he forgot to come up with a response. Too late, he came back with “What’s wrong, Scully? Afraid you’ll lose big?”

Confusion briefly crossed her face — she’d clearly assumed they were done with the conversation — before she responded with a coy smirk. “Only if it turned into a game of strip poker. Then Frohike would _definitely_ rig the game.”

She ducked into the car to avoid seeing his reaction, which he was grateful for as he stood in shock at her answer. After a moment, he chuckled to himself before getting in the car as well.

* * *

Back at the motel, Mulder paced around his room instead of packing, full of nervous energy. Scully was in the other room booking the flight home, and he secretly hoped there wouldn’t be any available tonight. He didn’t want to go home yet, especially since going home would probably mean going their separate ways until Monday. Whatever the reason for Scully’s upbeat mood, he didn’t want to waste it. Maybe he could think of some excuse for them to get together this weekend. Or maybe he should drop all pretense and just ask her out.

Just then, two knocks sounded from his door before Scully came in, not bothering to wait for his response. They'd accidentally barged in on each other enough times that their senses of privacy were a bit shot. She plopped down on his bed with a sigh and he saw her take a mental note of his unpacked suitcase.

She held up her phone to reference her call. “No available flights out tonight.”

“Really?” He asked, genuinely surprised. He didn’t think it would actually be a possibility.

She shrugged. “They had one this morning that we missed and another one scheduled for five, but the plane is having some sort of trouble. The guy said not to worry about it when I asked for specifics,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“They only had the one flight?”

Her only response was another shrug.

“Huh.” He looked thoughtful, finally sitting down in a chair across from the bed. So they were stuck in Chicago for the night. Just like he wanted. What were the odds?

“And before you ask, no I didn’t check on flights to Vegas or Atlantic City.”

He only gave a brief smile, still thinking. It was just a coincidence, right? Or was it a sign?

“You don’t seem too upset,” she commented, then nudged his open suitcase with her elbow. “What, were you considering moving here?”

“You know,” he said, ignoring her comment. “I was here a bunch of times back in my VCU days. This case was probably my lightest one in Chicago.”

Scully’s eyebrows rose but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe despite his nerves. “And it just occurred to me that I’ve never actually seen the sights here.”

She gave him a confused look. “Like tourist attractions?”

He shrugged. “Anything, really. All the times I’ve been here, I’ve just been restricted to motel rooms and crime scenes.”

“That’s not something that’s bothered you before.”

He chuckled. She wasn’t getting it. “I’m not saying it _bothers_ me, Scully. I’m just saying that I think we have an opportunity here.”

“An opportunity?” She asked. “Mulder, you usually just mope around in your motel room until the next flight’s available when this happens.”

No use denying that. “Well, maybe I don’t wanna do that this time.” He rose from the chair and moved to stand over her. “What do you say, Scully? How about a night out on the town?”

She looked up at him, intrigued. “And what exactly does a night out on the town entail?”

“I was thinking a walk in the park and dinner at a nearby restaurant.”

She tutted at him and stood up so that they would have been face to face if not for their height difference. She didn’t seem to mind their close proximity. “That’s not very tourist-y of you.”

“I never said I wanted to be a tourist,” he said.

“Then what _do_ you want?” She asked, her gaze challenging him.

He put his hands on her shoulders and took a bracing breath. She’d rejected poker night, but he certainly felt like he was risking losing big. “I want to take you on a date.”

She blanched at that, and he was certain that she would have backed away if not for the bed immediately behind her. He knew saying it so overtly was dangerous; they usually tiptoed and skirted around their feelings with a mutual understanding. But he was tired of doing that. And what could he say? He felt lucky.

About a million emotions and thoughts crossed her face in the span of a millisecond. “Seriously?”

“I- Yeah,” he faltered, deciding not to play it off. He was fully in it now, no turning back.

“That’s…” she trailed off, looking away.

“Look, if you don’t- If you don’t want to, I can just-” He stammered, backing away from her in slight panic. Maybe this was a mistake. “I just- I’ve been thinking a lot since New Year’s.”

Scully pressed her lips together in thought, still not looking at him. “I have too,” she mumbled to herself.

His chest felt too tight to even breathe, but he managed to spit out his question anyway. “What were your thoughts?”

She gave a small smile. “That if you didn’t do anything soon, I would.”

He blinked, taken aback by her answer. “Really?”

She laughed. “Mulder, it’s been — what, seven years? I mean at this point, it’s like...why the hell not?”

Mulder couldn’t help but smile back, thinking how weird this was. It was far from the dramatic scene either of them probably expected — like their almost-kiss outside his apartment a while back. God, had it already been almost two years since that happened?

But she was right. Their feelings had been clear as day to each other for a long time now. And it was as good a time as any.

“So you’ll go on a date with me?” He asked, sure that he sounded like some teenager asking that.

She smiled awkwardly, probably thinking the same thing. “Only if you’re paying.”

“Are you kidding?” He grinned back. “The Bureau’s paying. We’re writing it off as a work expense.”

“Well then, let’s go waste some money.”

* * *

The money-wasting didn’t start right away, as the first thing they did was go to a nearby park. They both felt a bit out of place in their suits and trenchcoats; everyone else here was dressed much more casually. But neither of them had brought casual clothes, so they resorted to sticking out like sore thumbs. On the other hand, it felt strangely appropriate for them to be out together in their work clothes. It added an element of familiarity to what was otherwise a nervous situation.

It was a nice day out. This park had paved paths instead of dirt ones, which was fine with both of them considering the amount of uneven dirt paths they’d had to walk on for cases. Plenty of other people were out and about, strolling together on dates or sitting alone on benches. True to form, Mulder and Scully were playing a game of people-watching. He'd suggested it in an attempt to help ease their tension.

“He cheated on her.” Scully leaned in close to whisper so as not to be heard by the arguing couple nearby.

Mulder glanced over at the couple in question. The woman was gesticulating wildly and looked incredibly angry while the man looked at his shoes in guilt. Wait, no. Now he was defending himself, arguing back. Idiot.

Mulder nodded at his partner to confirm her conclusion, then jutted his chin towards a young couple, both of whom looked extremely nervous. “First date.”

She glanced over, then leaned back in. “He keeps going in to hold her hand, then pulling back.” She smirked.

He grinned back. “Think I should yell at him to just hold her hand?”

“Only if you wanna sound like an old man.”

“I’ll tell him to get off my lawn while I’m at it.”

She chuckled and turned away to look for more people. Mulder couldn’t help but wonder if other people were playing a game like they were. How would the two of them be identified? As a couple? Friends? Or would their outfits give them away as work partners? He decided to take a risk, reaching out to take her hand. Scully looked at him in surprise but didn’t pull away.

“Just showing him how it’s done,” he mumbled lamely.

She smiled and decided not to point out the fact that they’d already passed the young couple, making it unlikely that the man would see what Mulder did.

They continued walking, hand in hand, the tension ramped up.

After a long pause, Scully cleared her throat and tilted her head towards a couple that looked only a bit younger than them. “Honeymoon.”

Mulder frowned and looked down at her. “You’re kidding. In Chicago?”

“That’s why she looks so unhappy.” She raised her eyebrows in an attempt to persuade him.

He looked again. The man was gesturing at the trees and landmarks and seemed to be gushing about it all. The woman looked considerably bummed out and dejected. Their wedding rings were shiny and new.

“Ouch.” Mulder winced in sympathy. “That one’s not gonna last long.”

“You’d think she would’ve known about the travel plans.”

“Maybe they had some sort of deal,” he offered. “Like, she handled the wedding, he handled the honeymoon. And it was a surprise.”

“Or maybe he said Chicago and she thought he was joking.” Scully smirked.

He chuckled. “Either way.” He fell silent for a moment, then gestured towards two women walking arm in arm. “Childhood friends.”

She snorted. “Mulder, they’re lesbians.”

“Hm?” He looked back in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“You’re off your game today.”

“Gimme a break, I’m distracted. You happen to know any good restaurants in this town?”

Scully glanced at the setting sun before responding. “You’re the one who asked _me_ out, Mulder. That means it’s your job to pick where we go.”

He looked down at her curiously. “Does that mean it’ll be your job to decide what we do when you ask me out?”

“Of course,” she answered readily as if expecting the question, but there was a slight shade of pink to her cheeks.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself, excited by the idea of a date planned by Scully as well as her confirmation that one would happen.

* * *

They wandered around the city in search of a place to eat. Scully didn’t want Italian, and neither of them felt like seafood. Eventually, they settled on a bar-slash-restaurant that claimed to have the best burgers in the city. Mulder figured it would be better than an overly-fancy restaurant anyway. And some alcohol might help.

They sat down in a booth and took in their surroundings. The bar had a pub-like atmosphere; quiet with more of a mature crowd that reminded Mulder of his bar of choice back home. On the rare occasion that he wanted to drink, that is. It felt comfortable here.

“Hi, I’m Jen and I’ll be your server today.” A woman approached their table and placed down some napkin-wrapped silverware and two menus. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

They each ordered beer and she left and returned quickly with the drinks, then took their order. Mulder was intrigued to try the “best burger in the city” while Scully went with a grilled chicken sandwich.

Once Jen left again, an air of nerves settled over the table now that they didn’t have the distraction of looking through a menu. They drank in an awkward silence before Scully finally broke it.

“This is weird,” she said, pointing out the obvious in hopes of leading to a solution.

Mulder smiled in agreement. Seven years of tension wasn’t likely to dissipate in the span of a couple hours. Plus, it was still hard for either of them to really come to terms with the fact that they were on a date right now. They just needed to start talking, but he had no idea what to start a conversation about. They always talked about work, so bringing it up now would probably just subtract even more from any date-like atmosphere they had going on. And they’d already played a game in the park. It would be weird to suggest another one, right? Why was this so hard?

On the one hand, it was just Scully. Scully who’d been his partner longer than anyone else, who’d seen him in more embarrassing and humbling situations than he could count. Hell, just yesterday he'd fallen through the floor of an apartment in front of her after failing to fix a sink. She was the only person he felt truly comfortable around. His best friend.

But on the other hand, it was _Scully_. Scully who he’d been in love with for...well, he didn’t know how long at this point. He wasn’t quite sure when it started. Scully who challenged him, questioned him, and made him work for everything. Who made his heartbeat speed up anytime she was close to him. Who was probably regretting agreeing to go on this date.

That gave him an idea.

“Hey, Scully.” He got her attention. “What’s the worst first date you’ve ever been on? Please don’t say this one.”

She chuckled. “No, far from it. Um, it was in college, actually.” She took a sip of her beer and sighed through her teeth, looking off in thought. “I had a car and he didn’t, so I had to pick him up. Which wasn’t bad, or anything, but uh…” She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “You know how I was raised in a military family, which meant punctuality was drilled into me. The whole ‘early is on time, on time is late, et cetera.’” She gestured vaguely.

Mulder nodded, smiling fondly. Scully was always at least ten minutes early whenever they had an agreed-upon time for something. He'd learned to take it into account early on, but that still resulted in some embarrassing situations.

She took another sip. “So I show up ten minutes early, right? And I was feeling nervous. I think he was the second guy I dated in college. Or tried to date, I mean.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. He thought that it couldn’t be _too_ bad if she was looking back and laughing at it. “So I knock on his apartment door, and he says ‘you’re early.’” She licked her lips, holding back another smile. “And I said ‘yeah, is that okay?’”

Mulder leaned forward expectantly.

“And he said ‘oh, that’s fine. It’s just that _Yvonne_ hasn’t left yet.’”

His jaw dropped. _“Yvonne?_ He had another girl in the apartment?”

She nodded excitedly, giggling a bit. “Yeah! And I thought, well, maybe she’s his roommate. Or friend, or sister, or something.”

“I’m guessing not.”

She shook her head. “His _girlfriend.”_

“Jesus.” Mulder leaned back in his booth, astonished. “Like a serious girlfriend?”

Scully nodded. “They’d been dating for two years. Apparently they had an open relationship — which is their business — but that’s kind of something you should tell a girl, right?”

“I would think so.”

She sighed. “Anyway, we still went on the date, but it was a weird note to start off on. And open relationships aren’t really my thing.”

Mulder shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll admit, I was not expecting that kind of situation when I asked the question.”

“What did you think I’d say?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Getting stood up. Or someone’s mom barging in on an...intimate situation.”

She laughed, drinking more of her beer. He realized he had a lot of catching up to do and took a sip as well. “Oh, those things happened. But you specified _first_ date.”

She had him there. Before he could respond, though, Jen came back with their food. After “thank yous” were exchanged and she left again, the conversation lulled a bit as they started their usual eating routine. Scully passed him the ketchup and mustard while he passed her a knife so she could cut her sandwich in half the way she liked to. He gave her some of his fries and she forced some of her side salad onto his plate despite his usual protests (he’d still eat it by the end of the meal).

After a few minutes, she spoke up again. “What about you?”

“Hm?” He asked around a mouthful of burger.

“Worst first date.” She popped a fry in her mouth.

“That time Bigfoot stood me up,” he said. A grape tomato hit him square in the chest. “Okay, okay,” he laughed, then stopped to think. He probably should have readied an answer before asking her in the first place. His first date with Phoebe was pretty bad, but he didn’t think that would be a good idea to bring up.

“Mine was also college, I think,” he said. “The date itself went fine. The usual dinner and a movie scenario. I thought it was going great because we had a lot in common and it was easy to hold a conversation.” He stopped to take another bite.

“But?” Scully prompted.

“But,” he swallowed. “At the end of the night, he said ‘this was great and all, but I think I’m actually straight.’ And then he never spoke to me again.”

A hand flew to her mouth to hide her smile, not wanting to laugh at his misfortune. “Seriously?”

Mulder nodded. “And it was especially awkward because we had a lot of the same classes together throughout college, so I couldn’t escape him.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“The thing is, I saw him out with another guy about a year later,” he continued. “I mean, maybe he was still figuring things out when we went out and realized that he _was_ into guys later…”

“Or maybe he lied to you so he wouldn’t have to say that he just wasn’t into you,” Scully finished.

“Exactly.”

“That’s-” Scully snorted, then pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide it. “I think you definitely win.”

“Ah. Biggest loser,” he pointed out. “Worst first date.”

“I’ll get you a trophy.”

The tension eased after that, the two of them quickly finding their usual groove as they ate their meal and drank about two more beers each. Scully was in that state where she was flushed and smiley but still quick-witted. Mulder felt a nice buzz settle in his brain.

Scully narrowed her eyes, fingers steepled in front of her mouth as she thought. She slowly lowered her hands to point at him. “Mac and cheese.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Bologna sandwiches.”

“Damn.” She sat back in her seat. “Alright, your turn.”

He thought for a moment. “Salad?”

She snorted. “Mulder, I was a kid. My favorite food was pizza.”

“That was a bad guess, you’re right.”

“Alright. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?” She asked.

He knew that one. “Your nonfat Tofutti shit when you’re trying to be healthy, but your _real_ favorite is cookie dough.”

She grinned.

“Mine?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” she answered immediately.

“Damn, I thought you didn’t know.”

“Are you forgetting the time you caught the flu on a case and you kept begging me to buy you some?” She asked. “Definitely a weird enough ‘sick food' that I remembered.”

Mulder shook his head. He remembered being sick, but most of that case was a blur as a result. “Did you give me any?”

“No. I gave you chicken soup, you weirdo.”

He laughed at the fact that she called him a weirdo, then checked his watch. They’d both finished their last beers a few minutes ago and neither one was interested in drinking more. “Should we head back?”

Scully nodded and leaned back in her seat, sighing lazily. Mulder got the check, they paid (he offered to cover it, but she insisted on splitting the bill like they normally did), and stepped out of the bar and into the cold night. He used the cold as an excuse to wrap his arm around her as they walked. She gratefully leaned into him, her arms crossed to warm herself.

It was only a ten-minute walk back to the motel. As they arrived, Mulder realized he had no idea what to do next. Should he invite her into his room? It was too soon for that, right? Of course, it _had_ been seven years, so maybe not. But what if it put her off?

He felt Scully tense up in his hold, probably thinking about the same thing. After some thought, he decided to play it safe, stopping in front of the door to her room and letting go of her.

“Well, uh… Goodnight,” he said lamely.

Scully didn’t meet his gaze, awkwardly looking to the side instead. “Right.”

“What, uh, what time is our flight tomorrow?”

“Noon."

“Right,” he said. After a pause, he gestured towards his door. “I’ll, um-” He stopped, then just nodded and turned away.

She sighed. “Jesus Christ, Mulder.”

Before he could react, her hand was on his arm, pulling him back towards her. She rose up as he bent down instinctively, and they met in the middle. Her lips were cold at first, but quickly warmed up as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She looped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, doing what they’d both wanted ever since New Year’s.

The kiss simultaneously lasted ages and not long enough. Scully pulled away, out of breath. “There,” she said definitively. “Anyone ever teach you how to say goodnight to a girl?”

“I know how to,” he argued, kissing her cheek, then her neck. “The problem is that now I don’t _want_ to say goodnight.”

She laughed breathlessly before pushing him off of her. “Nope. You missed your chance on that one,” she said, arching her brow and grinning.

Her words registered in his mind and he dropped his head in defeat. “You’re kidding.” He’d actually had a chance tonight?

She shook her head. “Gotta learn from your mistakes somehow.” She stepped out of his grip and went in her room, sticking her head out the door. “Better luck next time.”

He groaned and leaned against the wall next to her door as she closed it, somehow feeling like both the luckiest and unluckiest man in the world. After a moment, he stood up straight and went to his room, brushing off the defeat. Better luck _next_ time, she’d said. Meaning there would _be_ a next time.

And when that happened, he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Maybe someday Mulder will get that second chance...


End file.
